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Xavier's Desire (Dragons Of Sin City Book 3) by Meg Ripley (22)


 

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When Ernie and Mari came knocking on his trailer door, Dean knew Mari had finally found the courage to tell her father the truth. Ralph and Waldo were eating breakfast at the narrow table, and he gestured to them to get out before opening the door.

“Good morning, Mari. Sir.”

“Good morning, Dean. May we come in?” Ernesto asked.

“Of course.” He stepped back and allowed them to enter. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Yes, thank you,” Mari said, shooting a shy smile at Dean’s brothers. They quickly gathered up their cards, greeted the visitors, and ducked out of the trailer before Dean could give them another warning look. Dean poured three cups of coffee and invited them to have a seat.

“I reckon you know why we’re here,” Ernesto said.

He looked at Ernie warily. “I have a guess.”

“I want to thank you for helping Mari. Especially since I wasn’t there for her when she needed me.”

Dean released a long breath. “It was the right thing to do. Especially since she’s my friend.”

Ernesto sipped his black coffee and leaned forward. “Do you think she killed anybody?”

“Nope.”

Mari jerked like his answer surprised her. “But I was covered in blood.”

“That doesn’t mean you killed anybody,” Dean said. “And you haven’t shifted in the past week or been a danger to anybody. I don’t think you went out and killed that man.”

“What do you think happened?” Mari asked.

“I think you smelled the blood and went to find it. I think whoever killed poor Curt was the same bear that killed old Red,” Dean answered.

“But how do you know?” Mari pressed.

“Because there were two sets of human prints where Red was killed. Whoever killed him shifted once they got to the edge of town.”

Ernesto nodded. “So, there’s another bear in town.”

“I believe so.”

Ernesto narrowed his eyes, his gaze holding Dean’s. “Was it you?”

“No. I have my shifting completely under control. I only shift when I want to, and I don’t hunt humans.”

“Can you teach me how to do that?” Mari asked.

Dean didn’t answer her right away, and he didn’t look away from Ernesto. He wanted the older man to understand him; to understand that Dean had trusted him with his life, and that he could trust Dean with the most precious thing in his life: Marisol. Dean wanted nothing more than to keep her safe—both from the world and from her herself. He would continue to protect her and help her with or without Ernesto’s approval, but it would be much easier if he had her father’s support.

“I can help you. It’ll take some time, but you’ll never have to be afraid of losing control of yourself. Does your mother know?”

Mari shook her head. “Not yet.”

“It’s important to get rid of any stress. I know there’s been some...tension in the house,” Dean said carefully. “Right now is a very delicate time.”

“I’ll take care of that,” Ernesto promised.

“We also need to make sure you’re eating right after you shift,” Dean continued. “A side of beef would be ideal.”

“I can take care of that, too.” Ernesto finished his coffee with a gulp and stood. “In fact, I was on my way over to visit with Chad O’Brian and his sons; I’ll arrange for them to deliver some fresh beef to the house.”  He leaned down and kissed Mari’s cheek. “I’ll see you tonight after the rodeo.”

She smiled. “I love you, Daddy.”

“Love you, too, mija.” He shook Dean’s hand and ducked out of the narrow trailer, finally leaving the two alone.

Dean released his breath in a long sigh. “God, you’re looking pretty today.”

 

Mari’s cheeks darkened and her smile was both pleased and shy. “Oh stop. My eyes are puffy and my nose is runny.”

“I don’t care how puffy your eyes are. I’ve missed seeing you.”

“I’ve missed you, too. And I’ve missed watching you ride. I’m so glad I get to see you tonight.”

He reached across the table, taking her hand in his. Her fingers were callused from a lifetime of work, but they felt so nice entwined with his equally rough fingers. Holding her gaze with his, he brought her hand to his mouth and placed a soft kiss on each knuckle. She caught her breath, and he realized he was holding his own breath as he kissed a path back from her pinky to her thumb.

“We need to... talk,” Marisol said, her words breathy.

“Mmmhmm.” They had a lot to talk about—Dean couldn’t dispute that fact. But he didn’t want to use words; he wanted to communicate with her on a deeper level.

He wanted to get to know her body better.

The back of her hand was warm and smelled of lavender, but he wanted to kiss the rest of her supple body, wanted to learn her most intimate scents, wanted to feel every inch of her. In the back of his mind, he calculated how much time they had before his brothers would return or before her father came back to collect her.

“Dean, we need to talk about how I can keep myself safe,” she continued, though her voice was halting.

“Mmmhmmm.” He turned her hand over and kissed the center of her palm. The tension drained from her arm as his lips lingered over her skin, moving to her wrist. Her pulse pounded against the kiss, her heartbeat increasing, her blood rushing hot. His senses were always in a heightened state—and just then, he wondered if she ever noticed her own special abilities—and her arousal only sharpened his own hunger.

She wants you, a voice from deep inside told him. She wants you, and you could have her right now. Right here on this table.

The thought made his groin tighten and his pants suddenly felt two sizes too small. He shifted in his seat, but nothing would relieve the pressure short of unzipping his fly. And nothing would soothe the throbbing ache except finally taking her. Claiming her. Making her his.

Dean took a deep breath and forced himself to stop, lifting his head and gently lowering her hand to the table. She looked at him with heavy-lidded eyes, and he could see her hard nipples through the thin cotton of her T-shirt—which didn’t help his self-control or the bulge in his jeans.

“Why did you stop?” she asked huskily.

“Because...we can’t.”

“Why not? We’re both adults. I want to. You want to, don’t you?”

“More than you know.”

“Then why do you keep stopping?”

“Because now is not...it’s not a good time. Trust me. There’s enough going on...inside of you, and with your parents and with the rodeo and you don’t need me making it worse.”

“I feel like you would only make it better.”

“I shouldn’t have started anything.” He released his breath. “We need to work on meditation.”

“Why? What does meditation do?”

“It helps you stay calm and focused.”

“I don’t care how much meditation I do, I can’t stay calm and focused around you.”

Dean snorted. “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

“Well maybe I should just go. I can’t hide here forever.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Dean admitted. The trailer would feel empty and dour without her. He could try to distract himself by heading to the stocks and looking over the bulls, but for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel any care or desire to see the bulls.

“That’s why I shouldn’t stay. I’m just distracting you and you’ve got a big ride tonight. You could get your card this weekend. Then you’ll be able to join the professional circuit and before you know it, you’ll be world champion.”

Dean laughed. “I’m not even qualified to ride professionally yet, and you’ve got me winning the world title.”

“I know you’re better than anybody else riding today. Maybe better than anybody ever.” She tilted her head, looking at him thoughtfully. “Aren’t you ever scared that you’ll lose control?”

“Nope.”

“You really have perfect control over the bear?”

“Yeah, I do. It’s something that I’ve worked very, very hard on. I only shift when I want to.”

“Did your father really lose control?”

“No. When that bull jumped the fence, he knew he had to do something. It could have hurt or killed a lot of people. He knew the consequences, but what choice did he have?”

“Would you do the same thing,” Marisol asked, “if a bull jumped into the crowd like that?”

“I don’t know,” Dean answered honestly. “My father lost his career, his family, everything. I don’t even know if the man is still alive. On the other hand, who can just stand by while innocent people are being hurt?”

“How do you shift on command? Or avoid shifting if you don’t want to?”

“Well, that’s why I was going to teach you some meditation techniques. Meditation clears the mind. It silences that inner voice that’s constantly talking. Once your mind is silenced, you can hear it.”

It?

“The bear’s spirit. And it can hear you.”

“And once I hear it, I’ll be able to summon it?”

“Yup.”

Marisol nodded. “Okay. Then tell me what to do.”

Their conversation had gone a long way in cooling his blood and his jeans were no longer too tight. But he knew it was a temporary sort of peace. She was so gorgeous in the morning light, and his hunger for her would never fade. It lurked just beneath the surface, waiting for the moment his guard would slip so it could come rushing back like the tide—overwhelming and out of his control. And that was what made it so goddamned scary. Nothing could be out of his control. A slip anywhere could spell catastrophe.

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